


Brief Encounters of an Unusual Kind

by whalebone



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016), The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Established Relationship, Kid Fic, M/M, Robot/Human Relationships, Treat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-14
Updated: 2019-12-14
Packaged: 2021-02-25 05:01:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,327
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21670366
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whalebone/pseuds/whalebone
Summary: The Empire has been defeated and the war has been over for five years. Cassian and K-2SO are travelling the Galaxy, looking for some peace and safety.Instead they find a strange, seemingly abandoned child.
Relationships: Cassian Andor/K-2SO
Comments: 34
Kudos: 240
Collections: Star Wars Rare Pairs Exchange 2019





	Brief Encounters of an Unusual Kind

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Bright_Elen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bright_Elen/gifts).



> Like everybody else in the known world, I've fallen in love with Baby Yoda.
> 
> Then I read the prompt for Cassian/K-2SO with a child. So I had to have them meet _The_ Child.
> 
> I cannot possibly do justice to Baby Yoda's cuteness.

“It would have been extremely helpful to land somewhere with a spaceport,” Kay said. “Or any kind of civilisation at all.”

Cassian scowled, though the effect was lost with most of his face obscured by the welding mask. Honestly, it wasn’t as though he had asked for engine failure to happen over this damned moon, which appeared to be nothing but peaceful grasslands. He sometimes missed having access to the Alliance mechanics and technicians and resources, scarce though they may have been.

The war had been over for five years, and while so much had changed, somehow so much just… hadn’t. Cassian had never expected to survive the war (had, in fact, come within 0.8% chance of survival on seventy-four separate occasions, according to K-2), and while he could barely admit it to himself he missed it, in a way. The burgeoning, struggling New Republic had no place for an ex-spy, especially not one who had done the things Cassian had done, and it certainly had no place for a reprogrammed Imperial droid. Cassian would rather put a blaster to his head than leave Kay, so here they were. On the move. Scraping a living amongst the stars.

With a ship that was failing more and more.

“We will need to replace these hydraulics soon,” the droid continued, bending down to peer under the wing, his joints creaking alarmingly. The ship wasn’t the only thing that needed new parts, but KX components were almost impossible to come by these days. Cassian had stolen as many as possible when the New Republic began to decommission the factories, but they had to be careful with them. Once a part was used, there were no more to be had, and… well. He needed to keep Kay working for decades longer. Cassian had never imagined getting to have almost an entire lifetime with him, and he intended to make the most of it.

“We’ll find somewhere,” said Cassian, turning off the welding torch and pushing his mask up. “Let’s just get this thing in the air, then—”

He broke off, turning to look out over the serene grassland. There had been a small noise, on the edge of hearing. K-2 straightened, his optics whirring. There was no other sound but the breeze, no sign of any life, but Cassian’s hand strayed to his blaster, every muscle tense. Kay said, “Hm,” and walked off into the grass.

“What is it?” Cassian asked, keeping his voice low. He drew the blaster, holding it low against his hip. Kay didn’t respond but strode on, then bent at the waist to pick something up. Cassian heard it again, the faint, high-pitched noise that had caught his attention before. Whatever it was Kay had picked up, it was very small, and wriggling. 

The droid returned, holding whatever it was at arm’s length. Curiosity overcoming caution, Cassian went to meet him, reholstering the blaster. 

It was very small, the creature. Green, wrinkled, with huge, dark eyes and long, pointed ears. It was wearing some kind of rough, brown smock, which Kay was holding so the creature dangled from his hand. It was making distressed-sounding noises and squirming.

“What _is_ it?” Cassian asked, interested. The creature stared at him, its eyes growing impossibly wider, its ears drooping. 

“I have no idea. My initial analysis has given me no data.” Kay lifted the creature so that it faced him, optics clicking as he focused. “Is it old? Or a juvenile?” 

As though to answer his question, the creature began to cry.

* * *

“If it’s a baby, where is its parent?” Cassian awkwardly jiggled the small thing in his arm. It weighed barely anything, and was still making piteous noises. “Or its… pack? Tribe? I don’t know.”

“Perhaps it doesn’t have one. Perhaps it was abandoned.” K-2 turned, surveying the empty landscape. “Especially if it always makes this much noise.”

“ _Kay_. Babies cry, it’s what they do. You probably scared it, looming out of the grass like that.”

“Well, that’s hardly my fault. I was built to loom. And it must be abandoned; there are no other life signs out here besides you.”

Cassian sighed. The crying _was_ getting quite annoying. They should probably just leave the creature where they’d found it, in case its parent came back. It wasn’t as though they were equipped to take care of a baby of any kind: a washed-up Rebel spy and a seven-foot-tall security droid were hardly the best caretakers of anything, except one another. And Cassian was failing at even that, if the scraping of Kay’s joints was anything to go by.

He squatted down to set the creature back in the grass, but its tiny, clawed hands clutched at his jacket. Cassian stood back up.

“We have to fix the ship, Cassian.”

“I know, I know. But I can’t just… leave it. What if it gets eaten?”

“By what, exactly?” Kay waved one long arm, clearly indicating the emptiness before them.

“I don’t know! But you don’t leave kids, Kay.” He had a sudden, vivid mental image of telling Jyn that he’d abandoned a crying baby. The disgust on hypothetical Jyn’s face was enough to make him shudder. “Look, it’ll take us a while to fix the ship up, anyway. Let’s at least look after it – them – and see if their family or... pack shows up.”

K-2 rolled his eyes, which was not something he should be able to do. “Fine,” he said. “But you should know that I am not programmed for babysitting.”

* * *

The baby stopped crying after a few more minutes, fading into little whimpers and hiccups. Cassian kept jiggling them awkwardly, which seemed the thing to do. He had never held a baby before. Kay took over the work on the shuttle, and the little creature seemed fascinated by it, their huge eyes following the movement of the welding torch. Their long ears flicked up and down.

“You like watching?” Cassian asked them. “That’s Kay,” he said, speaking slowly. He pointed at the droid with his free hand. “ _Kay_. I’m Cassian.” He paused. “That might be a mouthful for you, though.”

“I don’t think the creature is verbal,” said Kay. 

As if in answer, the child made a chirruping noise, and reached out with one small hand, leaning towards the glowing torch. Cassian pulled it back quickly. “No! No, you can’t touch that. It’ll burn you.” Undaunted, the baby leaned forward again, now reaching with both arms, whimpering a little.

Sighing, Cassian dug in his pocket, looking for something to distract the baby, and pulled out a coin. Well, credits didn't go so far these days. "Here, have this."

The baby's ears perked up, and it took the coin in its tiny clawed hand. It began to chew on it, making pleased noises. 

"It will choke," said Kay disapprovingly. "You aren't doing a very good job if you choke it."

"They won't choke." Cassian turned the child towards him, so he could grab the coin if necessary. "It's fine, see."

The baby gnawed happily at the coin.

Before long the sun began to dip lower in the sky, turning the waving grass all shades of gold. It was fairly beautiful, Cassian thought. He had never usually had time to appreciate the planets and moons they had ended up on. 

“Let’s finish up tomorrow,” he told Kay. “There’s no rush.” And wasn’t that a novelty. No mission waiting for them. No crucial intel to get back to base. No reports to make, no contacts to meet. 

In the ship, he set the child on the floor while he dug around for some food. They seemed to have got over their earlier upset, and puttered around the galley, reaching out to touch anything they could. Cassian wasn’t entirely sure what the little creature would eat, but it couldn’t hurt to offer it some of the soup he was heating up. 

“I have checked the perimeter, and there is no sign of— Cassian, where is it?”

“What?” Cassian glanced around. “They’re here – they were right here!” He’d taken his eyes off the kid for all of ten seconds, and now the galley was empty. The thing was tiny, how had it moved so fast?

K-2 made a frustrated noise. “I will find it,” he said. “Let us hope it’s not chewed through the wiring.”

He clanked off through the small shuttle to the cockpit, and within a minute Cassian heard him say, “You cannot escape, small creature.” He reappeared in the galley, the baby once again dangling from the droid’s huge hand. 

“It apparently likes pressing buttons,” he informed Cassian, shaking the child lightly. “It is clearly a menace.”

Cassian looked from the baby, whose ears were twitching, to K-2, who somehow managed to look disapproving, and tried not to laugh. There was an odd, fond surge in his stomach, and he gave Kay’s chestplate a gentle pat. “I’m sure you can cope for now,” he said, and Kay’s fans gave a grumbling whir.

They sat on the ship’s ramp, looking out at the setting sun, the sky blazing pink and purple. Cassian had poured some soup into a small cup, and the child seemed to understand the concept. They slurped at the soup, spilling some of it down the rough brown smock, making happy noises. K-2 wrapped a long arm around Cassian’s shoulders as he ate, and Cassian let himself lean against the droid. This was still something they rarely allowed themselves to do outside the privacy of the shuttle, but something about this peaceful moon made Cassian feel almost safe. Kay’s fingers traced gentle patterns over his upper arm.

Once the child had finished their soup, they clambered to their feet and tottered towards K-2, hands outstretched. 

“What do you want?” Kay demanded.

Seemingly undaunted, the child climbed over Kay’s crossed legs and into his lap. They chittered happily, reaching up to press their hand against the blinking light built into the front of Kay’s chassis. They patted at the light, making a gentle clanging noise against the durasteel. Their ears lifted at the noise, and they did it again, then let out a babbling laugh. 

“You said they liked lights and buttons,” said Cassian.

“Hm.” Kay picked the baby up one-handed and lifted them to his face. “You should not hit,” he told the baby sternly. “Especially not droids who can crush you with no effort at all.”

The baby just giggled again, and leaned forward to poke at Kay’s glowing optics.

Cassian had never, ever considered having children. The galaxy had been too dangerous a place for him to even think about it, and even now there were insurgents and gangs rising up to fill the power vacuum left by the Empire. And that was without the fact that their lives weren't at all safe for a child, even now: constantly on the move, never quite safe, because who would be travelling with an Imperial droid but an Imperial soldier? Cassian had removed the Empire’s insignia from Kay’s shoulder years ago, but of course that was not a detail people noticed. Even if they found somewhere that could be truly safe for them, it wasn’t as though Cassian was cut out to be a parent, and he very much doubted that Kay would be interested in something so fundamentally _organic_.

Not that Cassian regretted any of it. He had never expected to see any kind of peace, and getting the chance to have years longer with Kay… well, it was more than he ever could have imagined. More than he had ever deserved.

“You really are very small,” Kay was saying to the child, who was burbling and running their fingers over his vocoder grill. “What is the point of you?”

“That’s mean,” Cassian told him lightly, leaning closer into Kay’s side. It was getting chilly, now that the sun had gone down, and Kay’s processors made him run warm. “They’re very cute.”

“That is not useful.” 

“Maybe not.” He took the kid from Kay’s hands and set them in his lap. “I was thinking. Maybe we should take them to the Guardians.” Chirrut and Baze had settled on a small, temperate, mid-Rim planet and set up an orphanage, taking in children whose families had been torn apart by the war. Cassian had only visited once, worried about drawing trouble to them, though the Guardians often got messages to him. 

Kay’s processors hummed. “What if this is its home?”

“They’re all on their own.” The child curled their hand around his thumb, their horny claws stronger than Cassian had expected. Guilt squirmed in his stomach at the idea of abandoning the little creature. “Chirrut and Baze would take care of them. They’d have friends, other children to play with.” 

Kay shifted closer, wrapping both arms around Cassian, who leaned into his chest plate with a sigh. The baby yawned hugely, their little green face screwing up, and snuggled into the crook of Cassian’s elbow. 

“If you want to go to the Guardians, we will,” said Kay, leaning his head against Cassian’s hair. “I do not have any useful data on this creature, and I do not have experience with juveniles of any species. We will do what you think is best.”

As though Cassian had any experience with children, apart from having been one once. “Thanks, Kay.” Cassian lifted Kay’s hand to his mouth and kissed his fingers. Kay gave a pleased little hum, and they settled into silence. The baby fell asleep, a warm little weight in Cassian’s arm. He and Kay looked up into the gathering darkness, the stars pinching into existence, one by one.

* * *

The following morning, Cassian stood at the top of the ramp sipping his mug of caf, the cool breeze stirring his ‘fresher-damp hair. K-2 was kneeling in the grass nearby, the baby puttering about beside him and occasionally showing him a bug they’d caught. They’d been out here since Cassian had woken up; apparently the child had tried to sneak past K-2 to get back into the cockpit in the early hours.

“Yes,” Cassian heard the droid say. “That one is a krek beetle. You should not eat that, either.”

“Having fun?” Cassian called.

Kay picked the kid up and stood in one smooth movement, his knees grinding. Cassian winced. He really need to find somewhere with oil bath facilities. “We are looking at bugs,” the droid said. “Perhaps there will be more interesting animals with the Guard—”

The blaster shot narrowly missed the droid’s head. 

Cassian dropped his caf and drew his blaster, quick as a wink. A figure was limping down the hill that rose in the East, blaster raised, already almost level with the ship. Cassian cursed himself for letting his guard down. The early-morning sun glinted off a distinctive silver helmet and breastplate: _Mandalorian_ , whispered the paranoid voice in Cassian’s mind. _Bounty hunter_.

Another blaster shot, this one bouncing off the ship itself. Cassian fired back, but the shot didn’t even put a dent in that Mandalorian armour. The figure came to a halt at the bottom of the ramp, blaster trained on Kay. Cassian weighed his options: his blaster wouldn’t do much good, not with that beskar armour. The Mandalorian had been limping. Cassian might be able to take him hand-to-hand. Kay _definitely_ could, if it came to it, but Cassian had heard a lot of rumours about Mandalorian weaponry, none of them good. If he damaged Kay, there was every chance Cassian wouldn’t be able to fix him.

“Put the kid down, droid,” the new arrival said, his voice stern and gravelly. “Or I’ll put a damn hole in your head.”

“Or I’ll put one in yours,” snapped Cassian. The Mandalorian didn’t want to risk hitting the baby, that much was obvious. What did a bounty hunter want with a child? Nothing good, surely. He walked a few paces down the ramp. “Step back.”

“I don’t think so.” The blaster turned on Cassian. “Tell your damn droid to put the kid down.”

Cassian stared down the barrel of the blaster, very aware of the Mandalorian’s impenetrable armour, and how much a blaster bolt would hurt at this distance. 

Before either of them could move, Kay stepped forward, grabbed the Mandalorian’s blaster arm, and yanked it upwards. The bounty hunter grunted and cursed, fighting to keep hold of his weapon, Cassian lifted his blaster again, ready to shoot—

And the kid, still held securely in Kay’s other arm, started babbling excitedly. The three of them froze. Cassian took his eyes off the Mandalorian, and saw that the child was reaching out to the bounty hunter, their ears waggling.

“Morning, womp-rat,” the Mandalorian growled. “Told you not to wander off, didn’t I?”

There was no mistaking the warmth and fondness in his voice.

“You _know_ this… child?” Cassian asked, unable to keep the suspicion out of his tone.

“That’s right.” 

Cassian and Kay looked at one another, and then at the child, who was straining forward, obviously trying to get to the Mandalorian. Cassian gave K-2 a nod, and Kay let go of the Mandalorian’s arm. He cursed again, rolling what must be a very sore shoulder, then plucked the kid from Kay’s arm. They burbled happily, nestling in against his chest. 

“Who sent you?” he asked, his gruff voice at odds with the gentle way he cradled the small creature.

“Sent us?”

“Yes. Who gave you the fobs?”

“You think _we_ are bounty hunters?” Kay demanded, drawing himself up in affront. 

The Mandalorian looked the droid up and down. Even with the helmet on there was an air of disapproval about him. Then he turned to Cassian. “Not bounty hunters?”

“No. Just trying to find somewhere to settle.”

The Mandalorian grunted. “Not many places good for that,” he said. 

“ _You_ are a bounty hunter,” K-2 pointed out.

“Not any more. Where’d you find the boy?”

“Just… in the grass,” said Cassian. “He was crying.”

The Mandalorian sighed. “We were attacked, seven klicks East. They dragged me off, damaged my ship, took the kid. He must have got away.” His voice took on an edge of warmth on that last sentence, looking down at the child, who gazed up at him in total trust, reaching up one hand to touch the helmet. “Thank you. For keeping an eye on him.” He gently moved the kid’s hand away. “Don’t get any ideas about playing with droids, you damned ewok,” he scolded lightly.

“I was educating him, in fact,” said Kay snippily. “Do you regularly let him eat beetles?”

“No.” The Mandalorian gave Cassian a short nod. “Thank you.”

“It’s not a problem.” Cassian should feel relieved that the child had a guardian, especially one that was well-armed and imposing, but a small part of him had apparently been enjoying looking after him. Looking forward to taking him to the Guardians, spending a little while there in peace and quiet.

“Anyone asks, you didn’t see anything here. No Mandalorian, no child. Got it?”

Cassian raised an eyebrow, his curiosity burning. “Got it.”

With a final, curt nod, the Mandalorian turned and began to limp the way he’d come. The kid climbed up to peer over his shoulder, big eyes watching them. Cassian lifted a hand in farewell.

“That,” said K-2, “is a very strange situation.”

Cassian laughed. “Definitely.” He turned away, ignoring the strange heaviness in his heart. “Come on, let’s get this ship fixed.”

* * *

Hours later, the ship was back in some sort of working order, and Cassian settled himself in the pilot’s seat. Kay reached across the cockpit and curled a hand around the back of his neck, fingers brushing the soft hair at his nape. 

“Do you still wish to visit the Guardians?” the droid asked.

There would be friends there. Comfort. Peace. A strange, ramshackle sort of family, for a little while.

“Yeah.” Cassian felt a smile touch his lips. “Yeah, let’s go.”


End file.
